


He Couldn’t Help The Dislodge

by cellwright



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anxiety, Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, No Spoilers, Requited Love, can they please be happy? can they PLEASE be happy?, slight angst, the works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellwright/pseuds/cellwright
Summary: Ryuji couldn’t help but be jealous of Makoto; She was intelligent, polite, and kind of a bad ass.It definitely wasn’t the fact that she was getting closer with Akira... not at all!Alternatively: Ryuji masturbates to the thought of Akira in a moment of indulgence and doesn’t think he’ll ever look him in the eyes ever again.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 33
Kudos: 387





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> no beta, we die like men
> 
> enjoy!

Swear to god, Ryuji didn’t _mean_ to become jealous of Makoto Niijima.

Of course, many people envied her as was; she was class president, good with adults, had high grades, and was generally polite to everyone. She was a little prissy at times, sure, but it was no wonder that students at Shujin strived to be at her level. 

Even if anyone knew her as her Phantom Thief self, they would be jealous of how kickass Makoto was. How inside of her there was a small fire that grew and grew until eventually, it erupted into a wildfire and forced herself to acknowledge her own worth. 

Plus, a goddamn _motorcycle_ was her Persona?!

Regardless of all the reasons why Makoto Niijima was an Absolute Badass though, those weren’t why Ryuji was so jealous of her that it tore him apart sometimes. 

No, it was specifically how she got along with Akira. She was so intelligent, hence being dubbed the new ‘intellect’ of the Phantom Thieves, that she would always give constructive input on how to approach shadows or infiltration routes or whatever the hell it was in the Metaverse and Mementos alike. 

And _every time_ Akira listened intently, valuing her advice no matter what it was. Hell, she could have told him that taking showers was a _good_ thing and Akira would nod thoughtfully as if it was a new revelation of sorts. 

They got along so well, it was as if some god above had planned it all. Often, they would hang out outside of official PT meetings to discuss strategy and the best ways to level up themselves and their Personas.

Akira, finally glad to share some of the responsibility of being leader, felt a bit of weight lifted off of his shoulders whenever Makoto strategized. 

That’s what it seemed like to Ryuji, anyway. 

He just couldn’t comprehend how Makoto had gone from a thorn in his side at school to a vital teammate in less than a week. 

And Ryuji liked Makoto (as a friend), which was the worst part. In a way, they had similar issues when it came to their families, which is why they held a mutual respect for each other despite their precious grudges.

Ryuji could recall the night that they were alone and talked about it, too, after they had gotten back from Makoto’s first trip to Mementos and she was too tired to get home right away. Everyone had to catch their trains and the two were taking the same one anyway, so Ryuji sat Makoto down on a bench next to some pamphlets so that he could go get them a drink while they waited. 

Surprisingly, it was Makoto who brought up the subject. Ryuji planned to only awkwardly sit next to her and hope that she liked the milkshake he bought from a drink vendor near the station. 

In retrospect, Makoto was probably too exhausted to secure her usual polite filter, and the vanilla milkshake she held in her hands like it was a steaming cup of tea was mellowing her out. She could have fallen asleep right on that bench since she knew that Ryuji would have made sure she was awake to get on the train, but the poor guy already looked uncomfortable as it was. 

“Y’know, I’ve heard about what had happened with your family… Dad ‘n all,” she quietly mumbled, eyes closed. It was _extremely_ unlike Makoto to be so direct and especially speak so casually, but the milkshake was already softening her system. 

“D-Did you, now?” Ryuji stuttered in response. How she knew, he had no clue, but he felt his face heat up in embarrassment before he could think of something smarter to say. 

“I know what it’s like, kind of. With m’ sister.”

Sai Niijima would never, ever hit her sister, but christ, did her words _sting_ more than a slap ever could. Whenever she got worked up about a case at the firm, or if she had a deadline approaching, she’d take out her frustrations on Makoto in the form of backhanded compliments and quiet insults across the dinner table. 

Makoto only knew about Ryuji’s old situation because of her digging on the Phantom Thieves, unfortunately. She spoke to some of his old track teammates to get a little more data on Ryuji, but she received the exact opposite of what she expected. 

Apparently pieces of Ryuji’s past were already hot gossip amongst the second years, but it hadn’t spread to the third and first years yet. His teammates spoke about it loudly, apparently without much sympathy for the blonde. 

“Yeah, his dad like, hit him a lot,” one teammate said in between bites of a granola bar, “Guess that’s what made him so screwed up.”

The hairs on Makoto’s arm raised at how the guy didn’t even sound sympathetic. If anything, he was laughing to himself. 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure one of our old teammates was the one who started spreading it around. Sakamoto trusted him enough to open up, but after everything with Kamoshida he probably told the others, who then told everyone,” said another, more timid student who Makoto recalled used to be a distance runner. 

Makoto had no idea. Of course she had an idea (she wasn’t snooping around for nothing), but she didn’t realize the extent of it. 

She didn’t know why she brought it up to Ryuji while they were waiting for the train, though. She was dangerously tired and probably could have passed out if she wasn’t drinking her milkshake, but somehow had half a mind to bring up something so uncomfortable to talk about. 

Maybe Makoto figured that it could have brought them closer. They were teammates after all, as well as Akira’s first choices for party members in the Metaverse.

Ryuji nodded thoughtfully after Makoto mentioned her sister, figuring he didn’t have to guess how Sai treated her. “That sucks… I’m sorry you got into this mess, Makoto..”

“I got you all with the trouble with Kaneshiro..” Makoto mumbled, sliding down the bench so that her chin was touching her chest. She had to have been _exhausted._

Luckily, their train arrived soon after and Ryuji was able to get her home safely. 

Ryuji admired her _and_ could relate to her. If he didn’t have every reason to like her, Ryuji would have hated Makoto.

All of this was going through Ryuji’s mind as he was sitting in the back of the Monabus, the Phantom Thieves on their way back from a Mementos run. Makoto and Akira sat in the front row of the bus, deep in discussion about how to tackle their next run and what requests they should handle when. 

They were a little too close for Ryuji’s comfort. 

Well, a foot of space was barely considered small, but in Ryuji’s mind he _swore_ that every time the bus went over a bump, they inched a little closer. 

Sometimes Ryuji wished he was a little smarter. Of course it was for obvious reasons, but he also just wanted to be able to comprehend the Metaverse and Mementos as well as Makoto could. She hadn’t been on their team for long, but somehow understood the entire concept better than Ryuji bothered to. 

He wanted to talk about all of it with Akira like how he did with Makoto. He wanted Akira to listen to his advice and strategize around his ideas. 

Ryuji wanted all of it, but he figured that most of all, he wanted Akira to look at him with the same excited expression that he’d look at Makoto whenever they had their discussions. 

But, obviously Akira would be attracted to someone like Makoto. Even if she was a year older, they matched in intelligence and were able to talk so easily, like they’d known each other forever. He was obviously straight, and even if he _did_ like guys, he wouldn’t like someone like _Ryuji_ —

“What are you doing back there moping so much?” Ann interrupted his thoughts. Her and Yusuke were chatting in the middle row of the bus, but now the entire team’s attention was brought to Ryuji. 

“I-I’m not _moping_ ,” Ryuji defended, but his face heating up in embarrassment in being caught gave him away. 

“You totally were! Your brows are doing that thing, like you’re mad,” Ann laughed. 

“I’m not _mad_ either—“ Ryuji started, but Ann laughed again. Ryuji only huffed and slid further down his seat than before, mumbling to himself about being tired. 

____

“You can crash at the cafe if you’re too spent to make it home,” Akira told Ryuji when the rest of the team (minus Morgana) had left to go home. 

Akira had been suggesting it more and more often now that they were going on longer trips to Mementos, but Ryuji wasn’t going to pass up hanging out with Akira. It would never happen between them romantically, but Akira would always be Ryuji’s best friend even if it killed him.

That’s how they ended up in the attic of LeBlanc, Ryuji sprawled over Akira’s bed in some of his old clothes. Ryuji kept on “accidentally forgetting” to bring his own set of clothes to the cafe for whenever he stayed over, but Akira’s clothes were just so soft and worn and smelled exactly like him and he didn’t want to ever get out of them. 

“You know, you really were moping in the back of the bus on our way out. Everything alright?” Akira asked casually, but he peered at Ryuji over his glasses.

Ryuji wanted to answer, but his words got stuck in his throat. Akira was in the middle of changing and waited for Ryuji’s response attentively, shirt off and head cocked to the side. 

_When the hell did Akira have time to work out?!_

“Oh, uh, you know… just tired,” he wearily answered, praying to god Akira didn’t notice the blush that was most definitely growing in his face. 

_Abs? Effing_ Abs?!

“Bullshit,” Akira said, but he didn’t bother to press further. Ryuji could have just been having a bad day, but he couldn’t shake off the look he saw on Ryuji’s face when he glanced up at him in the rear view mirror of the bus. 

At the moment he looked almost… sad. Disappointed, maybe? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, but it only settled at the pit of Akira’s stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the spicy bit!
> 
> enjoy :)

Akira and Joker were two extremely different specimens.

Akira was soft spoken and minded his own business unless he was defending someone or feeling a little gutsy. Otherwise, he had spectacular manners, which Ryuji chalked up to his probation making him paranoid. 

Joker, on the contrary, spoke _a lot_. He didn’t have to worry about a probation while fighting shadows, and was confident striding through the Metaverse like he owned the place, leading the team through ambush after ambush of shadows without breaking a sweat sometimes. Manners be damned, he got shit done his way, and _only_ his way when he didn’t have anything _in_ his way.

His shadow negotiations were what really got to Ryuji, though. Akira figured out shadows personalities through their fighting styles and was able to answer their questions pretty smoothly when he wanted a new Persona. Sometimes he’d fumble his responses with shadows who were irritable, or especially with the ones who sounded young, but otherwise successfully secured many new masks for himself during negotiations.

His specialty, it seemed, were the flirty shadows. Usually succubuses, they loved to chat up young, handsome guys like Akira. Ryuji could have sworn they _liked_ getting captured, with the way they asked suggestive questions to rile Akira up and try to embarrass him. 

Instead, _Joker_ could respond equally as suggestive, flirty, whatever the shadow seemed to like. Of course, he’d drop his voice an octave and push the line between flirty and “poorly-written-porn- intro”, but somehow it was like it was effortless. 

Like he really did have some of those thoughts running through his mind. 

Ryuji shivered thinking about it. He was at home in bed, thankful that it was a Saturday and he’d be able to sleep in the next morning. Two days had passed since Akira caught him moping in the bus, but no other questions have been asked since then. 

Akira figured the team could use a couple of days to rest up before they went on another run in Kaneshiro’s palace, so he left them alone for the weekend so he could go out and buy supplies. 

Ryuji thought about the rest of the sleepover after Akira had asked him why he seemed upset. They returned to their usual interactions and conversations before they went to sleep, but the image of Akira with no shirt couldn’t stop making its rounds in Ryuji’s thoughts. 

To top it off, his mind trailed off to one of the negotiations that stuck to the back of his mind ever since he got to the attic of LeBlanc. He swore he wouldn’t think about it, but his brain (and hormones) were betraying him. 

Fuck. 

At the time, they were planning on leaving soon, but Akira wanted one more persona so he’d be able to fuse a new one. Of course, the team didn’t know about his persona fusing abilities, but they just assumed that Akira wanted them to gain a little more experience while they had the chance. 

After they found the shadows weakness and Akira had it surrounded, he began with his usual, “Lend me your power.”

“Oh? _Me_ ? I’m just _so_ weak, though,” the shadow pouted. It seemed to be a succubus-type shadow, wearing a white bikini looking one piece that contrasted to her dark purple skin. Sarcasm dripped from her black-painted lips and she gave Akira another innocent look. 

“You look quite a nice size, though,” Akira easily replied, crossing his arms to look relaxed. He said it in reference to her actual height, but she noticed the subtle nod to her chest, which was almost hard to ignore. Ryuji didn’t know if clothes were sold in Mementos, but the shadow was due for a size up. 

The shadow squealed in delight. “Oh! So _naughty_ of you~” 

Her voice grew more girlish. “If I joined you though, where would you put me? I bet you have hundreds of other _prettier_ shadows helping you out!” 

Akira smirked. “Is that what you think?” 

The shadow quickly nodded. She was hooked.

“Even if I do, would you rather be my trophy? Would you rather I tie you down onto my wall and do _whatever,”_ he emphasized, “I want to you?” 

The shadow shivered in excitement and squealed again. “I _like_ you! I remember now! I belong to the human sea of souls! I can’t wait for our fun~”

She transformed into a mask that hovered over Akira’s face until it disappeared with a flash of blue light. 

“Well,” Akira sighed, “That worked out. Let’s get going home.”

Fuck. Shit, Ryuji was royally _fucked._ How did Akira just _do_ that? How did he just leave that image in Ryuji’s head and brush it off so easily like it was nothing?

Ryuji told himself he wouldn’t think about it after that moment, but it was nights like these that he’d let his thoughts run wild. Every flirty, suggestive negotiation would be pushed to the back of his mind until he lost control of all of it. 

And… shit. He seemed to have a _problem_ downstairs. 

Ryuji could have died right there. 

It wasn’t the first time, either. When Ryuji let himself get carried away sometimes, he would usually take a cold shower and force himself to ignore it all together out of complete shame and embarrassment. 

However, it was 2 in the morning, and his mom would throw a fit if she heard the shower running so late. 

He tried to wait it out, then. 

…

2 minutes passed and he knew he couldn’t handle it any longer. 

It wouldn’t be so bad if Ryuji indulged in himself does once, right? He’d get it over with quickly, forget about it in the morning, and never think about it ever again. 

Tentatively, he lifted his worn shirt to reveal his toned stomach and lazily traced his fingers down his skin, hooking onto the top of his shorts. His breath caught in the back of his throat. 

_How would Akira have done it?_

Ryuji’s sudden desire for release was louder than the voice of logic in his head trying to convey how much of a bad idea that was.

He gave in and imagined Akira on top of him, leaning over to ghost a kiss over his willing lips and then latching onto his neck instead. He would have begun to trail his kisses lower, teasing with gentle nips and licks until he _finally_ got to Ryuji’s crotch and directed his attention there.

Ryuji bit back the noise that strained at the back of his throat when he loosely wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, not allowing himself the luxury of relief just yet. He imagined Akira’s hand in place of his own, stroking upwards achingly slow. 

He’d give a little attention to the head, licking the top with the flat of his tongue before tracing the tip of his tongue down Ryuji’s length. He’d focus attention to the pronounced vein that ran up the back, before fully grabbing the base and stroking upwards to surprise him. 

Ryuji was too far gone in his fantasy to think about how much he’d regret it. In his own ecstasy, he couldn’t hold back the mumbling mantra of Akira’s name, worshipping it almost as much as he was his own cock in that moment. Ryuji’s hand moved quickly, but his imagination placed Akira’s hand there instead. 

Ryuji had a fist to his mouth to keep the noises the back of his throat was producing, his other hand flicking with every stroke upwards and slowing with every one down. 

With a last mutter of Akira’s name, Ryuji finally reached his climax. He didn’t care about the white that striped up his stomach, his head fallen back to recover from the stars popping in his vision.

He’d never come that hard before. Usually it was a passing ordeal ever since he figured out he had a thing for Akira, as he always willed himself to think about _anything_ but their leader, but this was the first time he’d ever fully indulged himself. 

_Holy shit_. Ryuji’s mind lingered on every imaginary glance and touch and muffled noise Akira gave him, the images unable to get out of his head. For a second, it was easy to forget that Akira wasn’t there. Shit, if he wasn’t so tired as it was, he would have probably been able to go for round two if he continued to think about other scenarios, positions, _anything_ with Akira giving him a lusty gaze through his thick eyelashes. 

Just regular teenage testosterone, right?

Ryuji was utterly fucked. He forced himself to think of _anything_ else, when he realized that there was no way he would be able to look Akira in the eyes ever again. Hell, he’d come harder than he ever had just by imagining Akira there with him instead of whatever shitty overly orchestrated porn he’d found on the internet. 

Of course, when he thought about that, he’d realized that at least one of the guys always had unruly black hair. 

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, what the hell_ , was Ryuji’s internal monologue. How fucked up could he be? How long had he been such a pervy weirdo? He could’ve jumped out the window thinking, _What if Akira found out?_

Maybe Ryuji had finally, finally come to terms with liking guys, but this was another step when he’d been… doing _stuff_ thinking about a guy he _knew_ . Their _leader_ , for fucks sake. 

So maybe there was a little bit of internalized homophobia locked up in the corner of his heart, but he justified it with his mental berating about how he’d let himself fall for Akira. How he’d taken the next step for nothing but a tiny crush from admiration (at least, that’s what he told himself), and now how badly he wanted to think about it more. 

Ryuji hastily cleaned himself up with the tissues on his bedside table, tossing them into the bin in his room and cringing when he pulled his shirt back down over him. He’d have to take a shower in the morning, but he felt gross inside and out regardless.

Ryuji huffed and let himself fall back into his bed. He knew there was no way he could Ctrl-Z coming to the thought of his best friend, but he tossed and turned until he fell into a fitful sleep. 

_____

“Ryuji! I didn’t think I’d see you here!” 

Ryuji was at the diner in the city, a textbook and some worksheets splayed across the table in the booth he occupied. He needed to get out of his house, but he figured he’d distract himself by doing _homework_ of all things. 

Of course, it was hopeless. Instead, all he’d achieved was buying too many colorful teas and getting nothing done. 

And on top of it all, Akira seemed to have the same idea, because he shuffled into the diner with his backpack slung over his back just as Ryuji was ready to call it a day and head home. 

Whatever god was out there, it wasn’t fond of Ryuji. 

“I gave up on studying a while ago,” Ryuji said sheepishly. He tried to sound casual, but he could feel his face heating up already. 

“It’s alright. If you’re up to it, we can go over it together?” 

Damn Akira. Damn Akira and how goddamn sweet he was when he wasn’t Joker. Akira was timid but so kind and was just as selfless as he was when he was Joker, their only similarities. 

Ryuji couldn’t look him in the eye, he _refused_ to. Instead he stuttered out, “Yeah, sure, I have some time, I think.”

Ryuji could almost feel the odd look Akira was giving him from across the table, but he focused his attention on taking out the work that gave him the most trouble: Mathematics. 

Akira pulled out his own math work and began their usual studying routine for whenever they met up to do homework. The only difference was that this time, Ryuji barely spoke, not even to crack a joke or bitch about school. 

“You alright? You don’t seem like yourself,” Akira said after finishing a problem, letting his pencil clatter onto the table in favor of taking another sip of his tea. 

For the first time since the two had begun studying, Ryuji looked up. 

Big mistake. 

Akira’s head was angled downwards, but he looked up at Ryuji through his thick eyelashes. Still, his eyebrows were furrowed in genuine concern and he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. 

Ryuji didn’t have a mirror, but he knew his face was bright red. 

Even when he was worried about him, Akira made it effortlessly adorable. 

“Ryuji? You’re all red, are you feeling well?” 

And he was goddamn oblivious too. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ryuji choked out. His breath wasn’t coming out of his lungs right. 

“You sure? If you’re not feeling well, you should go home and try to rest up.”

How could someone be so perfect? Akira was too good for him. 

Ryuji nodded and started packing his things up, however few they were. Before Akira could utter a goodbye, Ryuji was out of the diner booth and darted away, bag hastily thrown over his back. 

“That was… really weird,” Akira mumbled to himself. 

“Yeah, it was,” Morgana piped up from where he’d been burrowed at the bottom of his bag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope i did it justice, i don’t normally write too much nsfw
> 
> a little bit of an angst warning for the next chapter, not heavy at all though!!
> 
> please follow my twitter for updates and new fics, @kriswritesthing
> 
> if you’re enjoying, please consider leaving a kudos or a comment!! stay safe ;3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight sad feelings warning, internal conflict and such. warning for description of panic attack if that makes you uncomfortable!
> 
> otherwise please enjoy!

Christ, Ryuji was done for. He didn’t know how he planned to look Akira in the eyes, nor did he think he’d ever be capable of it again. 

How do you undo masturbating to the thought of your best friend? 

Now Akira noted Ryuji’s odd behavior and would probably check up on him later, and Ryuji would only be reminded of his embarrassment. He wondered if Akira somehow knew, if he could read minds and was drafting up a letter declaring Ryuji’s removal from the Phantom Thieves at that very moment.

Ryuji knew he was overthinking, but he couldn’t help the anxiety gnawing at his insides. He tasted brass at the back of his throat and didn’t know if he wanted to scream or cry or go to sleep, but any of it would alarm the passengers of the train he was on to get home. 

He anxiously picked at the worn seam of his school bag. It was difficult not to spiral into the paralyzing _what-if_ s and _maybe’_ s, but the gentle lull of the train car was enough to keep him moderately grounded. 

The world had other plans for Ryuji, whether he was teetering on the edge of a panic attack or not, because the train slowed and opened its doors to allow Makoto Niijima to shuffle in. 

She looked tired, clad with grocery bags weighing down her arms and a drag to her step. However, she immediately recognized Ryuji’s bleached head of hair and walked over to him. 

“Ryuji! Are you heading home?” She sat in the seat next to him, sigh leaving her lips when she was able to drop her items into her lap. 

Normally, Ryuji would have offered to bear the burden of the heavier looking bags in his own lap, but his heart was too seized by how conveniently ironic the situation was to even think about it. 

Instead, his mind hyper focused on how static it felt when her arm brushed up against his when the train car rocked to the side. Every hair on his body was raised towards no viable threat. 

“Ryuji?” Makoto asked when he didn’t answer. 

“S-Sorry?” The vicinity grew stuffy. 

“I asked if you’re alright. You look a little disturbed, is everything okay?”

How was Makoto so _good_? She should have been looking at Ryuji weirdly, wondering what the hell was into him, but she sounded so patient. 

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine,” Ryuji mumbled. He had to will himself to look at anywhere but her, just to prevent the overwhelming wave of emotions that was on the brink of crashing down over his conscience. 

“I was just on the phone with Akira, actually,” she said, no change in tone or volume to suggest anything, but the mention of Akira’s name was enough to send Ryuji off the edge. 

She continued to talk, unaware of Ryuji’s sudden quickened breaths. Ryuji wasn’t there, no, he was transported into a dark cave that grumbled with shuddering air and reeked of anxiety. 

“He had a question about something on his homework, but he mentioned that when he bumped into you, you were acting a little off and he was worried. Funny how I bumped into you too, huh?”

Her voice was so pleasant but didn’t reach Ryuji. She didn’t notice until she caught a glimpse of Ryuji’s hand clutching onto the edge of his school bag with whitened knuckles, and looked up to see the trembling of his shoulders. He was red and his eyes darted around without a second to spare for a view, and instead he tried to catch the breath that wouldn’t stop running away from him. 

“Ryuji?” Makoto asked, but was unsuccessful in getting to him. 

The train slowed to a stop. Ryuji couldn’t remember if it was his stop or not, but he decided he didn’t care and stumbled out of the train car. The air outside the train car was a little less suffocating, but barely provided him relief. 

Makoto Niijima was stubborn, though. Her worry for Ryuji outgrew her need to get home, and she hauled her groceries out of the train car as well as herself to follow him. She didn’t know the type of danger he could have put himself under, after all, and he was in no mental state to think about safety. 

Ryuji vaguely recognized the station as his own and wondered why it was the only luck he was allowed. 

He didn’t register Makoto following him and speed-walked through the relatively small station until he found one bench in a secluded corner of one of the hallways. It’s brick exterior was comfortingly familiar and he was able to direct his attention to the worn newspapers stands across from him. It had been years since they were changed, but they gave Ryuji something to ground himself to. 

“You know, it’s quite difficult to follow you with all these groceries to drag around.”

Shit. Shit, shit, Makoto followed him. How did he not notice? It only took a quiet corner and a familiar title to bring him back to earth, but he didn’t even acknowledge his own teammate hauling herself after him. 

Makoto settled herself onto the worn bench, a considerable distance from Ryuji this time, and dropped her groceries onto the ground next to her feet. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said, “You’ve been a little off since our last mission in Mementos, but I didn’t think it would amount to this…” 

She was thinking more out loud to herself than she was speaking to Ryuji, but it wasn’t the first time that they found themselves vulnerable together on a train station bench. 

Ryuji dropped his head into his hands and massaged his temples. “How are you so good, Makoto?” 

His voice was barely above a whisper and almost incomprehensible, but it caught Makoto off guard anyway. 

“Good? You mean, good at…” but she trailed off. 

“Just… _good._ Y-You followed me off a train just to see if I was okay, you help… you help the team out, you’re so…!” 

Ryuji was too distraught to form a coherent sentence. 

“I care about you, Ryuji, we all do. Akira’s worried sick, you know, even if he doesn’t show it.”

The mention of Akira only made Ryuji want to curl in on himself even more. He lifted his feet onto the bench and wrapped his arms around his knees to drop his chin in between his knees. 

Makoto noticed. “Did… you and Akira have a fight? Or are you upset with him, because he mentioned…”

She didn’t finish; Ryuji screwed his eyes shut when she said Akira’s name. She couldn’t figure out if he wanted to talk about it or not. 

“Makoto I… I can trust you, right?” Ryuji’s voice shook. 

“We’ve almost died for each other in the Metaverse, Ryuji, you can trust me.”

It wasn’t the time to crack dry jokes, but it relaxed Ryuji a little. He let his feet fall back onto the ground and sighed. If he had to choose anyone to vent to, it probably would have been Makoto. Their bond was unlikely, but after everything they had been through together, it made sense. He couldn’t keep it to himself any longer; he thought he’d explode.

Her aura was calm; her shoulders were relaxed back and she sat patiently for Ryuji to organize the scrabble of thoughts in his head, like she would have been able to wait for hours if she had to. She wouldn’t judge him, right? No, Makoto wasn’t like that. 

Ryuji took in another cold breath and forced it out of himself before he could have thought of a reason not to. “I think I… like Akira? Like, not just as a friend, and… it’s been tearin’ me up inside.” 

In a way, it was such an extreme relief to get that little tidbit off of his chest. Just saying it out loud forced him to admit it fully, that maybe he _wasn’t_ some sick, weird teenager with a perverted thing for his best friend. 

And of course Makoto understood. She had her hunches and theories, but Ryuji admitting it only confirmed some of them. 

“Is that why you’ve been acting weird?”

_No._

“Yeah,” Ryuji muttered. 

“Akira thought you hated him or something, you know, but I think… I think you should try and go for it.”

Ryuji was too distraught to realize what that confirmed and instead said, “You mean you guys aren’t…?”

It must have been too good to be true. 

“You mean… _No_ , no, Akira and I? Never,” Makoto laughed. “We’re friends, nothing more.”

Ryuji felt the doubt in his rib cage begin to dislodge. “You mean you guys _haven’t_ been flirtin’ for weeks now?!” He couldn’t believe it. 

“Is that really what it looks like?”

Ryuji dropped his head into his hands again. This entire time? He wondered if it was his insecurity imagining different intentions between Akira and Makoto’s interactions. 

God, he was going insane. 

“How long, Ryuji?” Makoto eventually muttered. 

“I don’t know, months? Ever since he discovered his effin’ Persona, who knows.”

He didn’t know what was real and what he thought up when it came to Akira. He was relieved to have finally admit his crush _and_ confirm that Makoto and Akira in fact _didn’t_ have anything going on between them, but the burden of his guilt wouldn’t leave his chest. 

“Please don’t tell him, Makoto,” was all Ryuji could say. 

It took him a while to come to realize that your heart wasn’t supposed to flutter around your best friend and leader, much less come to terms with having romantic feelings for a _guy._

Makoto and Akira not having something romantic didn’t mean Akira would ever consider dating Ryuji, he knew. 

“I won’t,” Makoto replied, but she was unsure. Ryuji’s posture sent her a myriad of tells; she couldn’t figure out if he was relieved or more anxious than before. 

“Thanks,” Ryuji willed himself to say as well. He wanted to say thank you for _everything_ , for following him out of the train and bothering to comfort him, and for being such a good teammate, but all he could settle for was the one word. He didn’t know if he had the energy to contribute more. 

She nodded. “Anytime, really.” Ryuji was an interesting character, she knew, but she’d protect him like a little brother if she had to. 

“Well, I’ve kept you long enough. When’s your next train arriving?” Ryuji asked, another form of guilt entering his consciousness in the form of taking so much of Makoto’s time. 

She checked her watch. “Little over a half hour, but I’ll just explain the situation to Sis.”

“I’ll wait with you until then,” Ryuji said more than he offered. It was the least he could do. 

“You don’t have to,” Makoto tried, but Ryuji shrugged her off. 

“I want to.” 

Ryuji had the rest of his life to thank her, really, but he wanted to be distracted a little longer before he would eventually have to go home and face his truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE IT GETS BETTER FROM HERE! i wanted to explore the little bond i see makoto and ryuji having! i feel like they’d grow to be like siblings, much like most of the team would 
> 
> another shameless plug, follow my new twitter for writing updates for this fic and many more to come! @kriswritesthing
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter, tried to reflect all MY internal homophobia and nervousness in it hahaha— ha... 
> 
> please kudos and consider commenting! constructive criticism is always welcomed <3 stay safe!


	4. Chapter 4

Akira decided the next day would be a good day to head into Mementos and gather more supplies before exploring Kaneshiro’s palace further. They were a few levels in, a dozen defeated shadows under their belt and many more to come. The floor they were on was dark and thick vines threaded the walls, far off subways rumbling eerily in the distance. 

The regular party was on the front lines, consisting of Akira, Makoto, Morgana, and Ryuji. Ann and Yusuke observed from the sidelines, ready to jump in as usual, and Futaba overlooked their battles as Oracle. 

Ryuji was jumpier than usual on this trip; in between shadows he let his leg bounce violently in the Mona-bus, but couldn’t bring himself to join any of the team’s boisterous conversations. Energy spun through his fingers like the electricity that thrummed through his persona. 

His heart-to-heart with Makoto did little to calm him down around Akira when he had so much battle adrenaline thrumming through his veins, yet he took a second longer to react against shadows when Akira called out his instructions. He didn’t know what got into him, but the pent up energy in his body combined with how exhausted his mind felt for running through the same train of thoughts for hours was a dangerous plot for fighting such difficult shadows. 

Akira rammed into another shadow that was ahead of them and sent them into battle. They faced off with an unfamiliar creature, but Makoto informed them it was nothing they couldn’t handle. 

Akira shouted out orders, cycling through various moves to figure out what the shadow could have been weak too. Before he could find it though, the shadow used its move to drain Akira of a decent amount of health. 

Ryuji hated fighting shadows sometimes. Don’t get him wrong, being a Phantom Thief was one of the first places where he felt like he belonged. It was a hell of a journey already, and he’s been close to dying more times than he could count on both of his hands, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. He was grateful to be in the midst of the action as well, but the only problem was that he couldn’t stand constantly watching his teammates get hurt so up close, when he could tell the exact moment a blow to the body fully registered in their mind, and their face contorted in pain. It sent jabs at his chest just when Akira was targeted by a shadow and Ryuji couldn’t do anything to help him. 

They knew Akira was their leader, and he knew his job was to lead them no matter the circumstance. 

“Gah…” Akira groaned at the initial blow but staggered up to his full stature. “Mona, Dia! Queen… try a Nuke.”

They obeyed as always. Akira regained some energy but glared at the shadow. This battle was going to be more difficult than he expected it to if it turned out not to have a weakness. 

“‘Yuji, try shooting it!” 

The shadow wasn’t weak to gunfire, either. Akira cursed under his breath. 

He tried to physically attack it, but it resisted his hits as well. 

The shadow interjected and decided to send another strike towards Akira. It sent him flying backwards onto the stony ground with a grunt, but he didn’t have a moment to spare thinking about it. 

“‘Yuji, _ZIO_ ,” he shouted, coming to the realization that he hadn’t tried electricity against it when all the attacks were wind-orientated. 

Usually Ryuji would have followed without hesitation, but he couldn’t ignore the wheeze of pain in Akira’s voice. He didn't bother to use their code names either, which sent Ryuji’s already-anxious mind into a frenzy. 

For the first time since he’d released the full potential of Captain Kidd, he disobeyed their leader. 

Instead of a Zio, he threw a Recov-R 100mg he had in his pocket at Akira to help him regain a little bit of energy. 

His hesitation left him with little time to dodge the shadows attack when it took advantage of his distraction, and he was struck with a blow to the chest similarly to Akira. Wind overtook his lungs and made his head spin, but he couldn’t summon the energy to get back up. 

“Skull! God, Panther! Switch in for Skull and have Fox fix him up!” 

Back to code-names.

Akira only sounded annoyed but had to throw himself back into the battle instead of berating Ryuji further. 

And for the rest of the Mementos trip, he kept Ann in the party where Ryuji usually stood. 

___

“I said I was _sorry_ , I just thought—“ Ryuji began, but he cut himself off with a sigh and a run of his hands through his hair. 

Akira and Ryuji were the only ones in LeBlanc that evening, Sojiro having already closed up and the rest of the team left to catch their trains. Morgana left them alone to argue as well sensing the tension but not wanting to deal with the responsibility of diffusing it. 

“I get that you wanted to help me but… I’m not as important as getting rid of shadows as quickly as possible. And you got hurt too!” 

“Yusuke fixed me up,” Ryuji mumbled in protest, but Akira was 50% right. He nervously thrummed his fingers against the table. “Fine, I got hurt but… you’re our leader, Akira, don’t pretend like you’re not important.” 

Akira became interested in the canisters of coffee grounds lined up on the wall behind the counter instead of replying to the comment. He’d never been like this; his eyebrows were furrowed and he had a faraway look in his eyes. “You’ve been acting so weird lately, way before all this.”

“Is that what this is about?” Ryuji sighed. He wasn’t slick at all, he knew it. 

“So you admit you’re acting weird?” 

“That’s not what I— This is what you’re bothered about?” 

Ryuji didn’t want to argue with Akira, hell, he didn’t think it was possible, but he was exhausted and anxious and wanted to go home. He wasn’t looking to accidentally spill all of his feelings to Akira either, but he always found it difficult to lie to him. There was something about Akira’s striking gaze that made Ryuji want to submit to whatever demands he wanted from him. 

“ _Yes,_ I’m bothered! You’re my best friend, how are you gonna be so distant for weeks and expect me not to notice?” 

It was rare to see Akira deter from his stoic self when they weren’t in the Metaverse. His face was pink with frustration; he wasn’t used to it either. 

“I didn’t mean…” Ryuji didn’t know how to finish. His mind was a jumble of guilt and anxiety and _how_ was he supposed to convey all that to Akira? How could he tell him, _oh, by the way, I’ve come to realize I have a huge crush on you and used you as effin’ spank material, and I’ve never had feelings for a guy so I’m trying to push you away until I come to my senses and get over it._

Of course he couldn’t say all that. 

“You know what it was like at home,” Akira mumbled. 

Ryuji had never heard his voice tremble, either. 

Akira’s past in the countryside was murky, but the most he had ever opened up to was telling Ryuji about his old friends. 

The bustling city of Shibuya had a stark contrast to the empty grasslands Akira was raised in. The people weren’t as numerous and he went to high school with ninety percent of the people he entered kindergarten with. 

It wasn’t difficult to ostracize Akira. He was always a little too lanky, always had too-big eyes that freaked people out and never spoke enough to seem as if he had the confidence to own it. His plan was to graduate and get away from the tiny town as soon as he could, but the world threw him for a loop and sent him to Shibuya, and LeBlanc, and the Phantom Thieves, and… Ryuji. 

“I know, it’s just… complicated,” Ryuji settled for complicated. What else was he to say?

“And you can’t talk to me about it?”

It effin’ hurt. Ryuji couldn’t stand to hear Akira’s voice be the most broken it’s ever been; He didn’t think Akira could hold a single ounce of weakness within him. 

Ryuji felt his ribs constrict with every breath he took. Was it all worth it? Did he really sacrifice his goddamn sanity for a moment of indulgence he didn’t deserve? 

Of course he did, he didn’t think he even deserved to be in the presence of Akira. 

Ryuji ran his hands through his hair and nervously tugged at the back. He couldn’t digest the thought of leaving him in LeBlanc alone, but spilling his guts made his stomach drop. 

He was used to running. Track or not, it was running from a fragile sense of masculinity he could never fully understand, a broken track dream and teammates who glared at him in the hallway, and the absent weight of a father he didn’t miss no matter how badly he craved the validation. In the end, he had a busted knee and a fucked up head to parallel the shitty life he felt he lead. 

God, he was tired. 

Ryuji wrung his hands out on each other, unaware of just how sweaty they had gotten. “I can talk to you about anything, man, I just need… I just need some time. Yeah, time.”

He sounded more like he was convincing himself of the fact. He also didn’t realize that it meant he’d _have_ to talk about it at some point either, but it was enough to elicit a small nod from Akira.

“You’re not mad?” Ryuji asked, hope tinging his voice.

“No, I’m annoyed. But…” Akira sighed, “I get it. I can’t force you to open up if you can’t.”

Ryuji nervously laughed under his breath, but it came out as more of a wheeze. He couldn’t help but play with his fingers. “Sorry, I’ll… I’ll go.”

“Yeah.” It was all he got. 

It took him a moment to force himself to get up and realize he needed to go. He half-wanted Morgana to trapeze through the door and make the air less awkward, less suffocating than it was, but luck never favored Ryuji Sakamoto. 

Most of all, he wanted to hear Akira’s voice beckoning him back to the cafe, telling him everything was going to be okay and that he wasn’t mad, and that they were good. 

But he didn’t. 

Ryuji couldn’t bring himself to turn to look at Akira, who he imagined was sitting dejected at the booth, maybe playing with his glasses on the table. His heart was constricted in his ribcage and he couldn’t seem to get a proper breath through his nose, but he could only let the bell of the cafe door ring behind him and carry the feeling all the way back to his apartment building. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of a shorter update but im super happy to have gotten it out. i'll definitely be getting out more updates and new wips more often now with quarantine and all. i hope you enjoyed and if you did, please consider giving it a kudos!
> 
> follow my twitter, kriswritesthing, for fic updates and random thoughts. there's a good chance those thoughts turn into wips too... wink wink.


	5. Chapter 5

**futaba:** whats wrong

**Ryuji** : it’s 2 in the morning and you’re texting me 

**futaba** : ur up too! also, not what i asked

**Ryuji** : were you listening in on leblanc again?!

**futaba** : duh, who do u take me for? 

**Ryuji** : annoying

**futaba** : rude, but i’ll overlook it for now. seriously though, akiras not the only one whose noticed u’ve been acting weird. we’re kinda worried for u

**Ryuji** : i’m fine, just trying to figure stuff out

**futaba** : i don’t think akira would mind if you told him about ur big fat crush on him tbh 

Ryuji felt his heart stop as he stared at his too-bright phone screen, Futaba’s message looming over him. 

**futaba** : ok ok sorry for freaking u out, but i had to bring it up before u decided to ignore me and go to sleep

**Ryuji** : did makoto tell you anything?

**futaba** : makoto? havent heard anything from her, why?

Ryuji released the breath he was holding in the back of his throat. Futaba was just being her perceptive self. 

**Ryuji** : nothing, but how did you?!

**futaba** : nyeh heh heh, oracle sees all

Ryuji was tempted to put his phone down for the night right then and there.

**futaba** : either way, i don’t think anyone else has really caught on. akiras been kinda upset youre ignoring him lately tho

God, he felt awful about it as it was, but the fact Akira was communicating the fact to the rest of the team sent another constricting pang in his heart. 

**Ryuji** : shit

**futaba** : just saying, u should tell him! gn

Ryuji dropped his phone next to him in favor of flipping around to groan into his pillow. He was nervous enough knowing Makoto was aware of his issue, but Futaba was a different entity entirely. He could never tell what she’d do or say next, her eccentricity combined with how random the thoughts that popped up in her head were heightening Ryuji’s already jumpy nerves. 

Was she right, though? Ryuji couldn’t tell. He now had two people implying he should tell Akira, but he knew it was one of those things that people just _said_. It was easy to have the “just go for it!” mentality when you weren’t the one going for it, because all Ryuji could think about was the different ways Akira could turn him down. Maybe he’d let Ryuji down easily and steer the conversation away from his confession if he tried to bring it up, just to save him the embarrassment, or he’d catch on to what Ryuji was saying too late before having to awkwardly decline his advances. 

Ryuji couldn’t bear the thought of making anything weird between him and Akira; Hell, he didn’t want to think of putting Akira in any situation that would make him feel bad when he was already succeeding in it by avoiding him. 

He flipped around in his sheets for what felt hours before falling into a fitful, weary sleep. 

___

Ryuji played with the worn edge of the sheets on Akira’s futon, refusing to meet Akira’s eyes and instead following the specks of dust that always floated through the attic. Akira sat at the turned around chair that was usually at his desk, eyes boring into Ryuji’s slumped posture. 

He knew they were going to have to talk about it eventually. He would have preferred to have a couple of years to prepare for it, but instead he was stuck with a week and still couldn’t figure out what he wanted to tell Akira. 

“I just… I came to this weird realization, and I guess.. I needed some time to think about it? It’s just takin’ a while.” Ryuji mumbled. No matter how many mini speeches he rehearsed in the bathroom mirror at home, he couldn’t articulate any coherent train of thought that wouldn’t end with him outright telling Akira that he had a “big fat crush” on him, or that he’d done unspeakable things with Akira on the mind and it was severly fucking him over. 

Akira gazed at Ryuji over the rim of his glasses. “Nothing you can tell me about?” He was still hurt, albeit it only slightly showed in his voice. 

“It’s… complicated,” Ryuji muttered, choosing his words carefully. “Kinda weird too, I guess. Don’t wanna freak you out.”

“We’re literally fighting for justice using the ‘rebellion in our souls’, in a magic world that we enter using an app,” Akira deadpanned, “I doubt anything you say will ever weird me out more than that.”

Ryuji couldn’t help but anxiously wheeze at the perspective, but technically Akira had a point. Maybe he would be able to test the waters on the whole “liking guys” plane, even if he was still conflicted about it himself. “I can try, if you want.”

“Nothing will beat having to fight a literal dick shadow in Kamoshido’s palace. Hit me.” 

Ryuji racked his brain for a segway into the topic. “Speaking of dicks, I guess,” he mumbled, and proceeded to immediately facepalm when Akira couldn’t hold a barking laugh back. “Shit, no, not what I meant!” 

Akira needed a moment to compose himself, an apologetic grin adorning his face. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. About dicks?”

Ryuji burned with embarrassment as he held his face in his hands. God, how was he already fucking it all up. “I meant,” he said, words muffled behind his palms, “I, uh, I guess I kinda figured out that I might like… like guys? It’s weird, I know, but--”

Before Ryuji could spiral into a nervous ramble, Akira interrupted him. “I can’t hear you through your hands, ‘Yuji.”

Ryuji lifted his bowed head and lamely dropped his hands to his side. “I-I think I like dudes,” he said under his breath, barely above a whisper. He never heard it out of his own mouth before, and it scared him more than whatever old god was controlling his atrocious luck. 

He was too distracted by how loud the blood rushing to his ears was to focus on Akira’s reply, but he didn’t think he wanted to hear it, either. 

“Earth to Ryuji?” Akira asked, suddenly appearing before Ryuji to shake him out of his head. 

“Huh?” Ryuji snapped out of it with a start. When did Akira get up from his chair?

“You zoned out. I said that I’m glad you told me, ‘Yuji.” He sat down next to him, mattress dipping under him. He sat close enough to Ryuji that he could feel the light tremble of his shoulders. “How come you were so psyched up to tell me?”

“I dunno,” Ryuji sighed, “Thought you’d be too freaked out to be around me anymore.”

It was a half-truth, really. He was more nervous for what Akira’s reaction would have been if he knew what spurred on the realization, but he didn’t plan on bringing it up. 

Akira leaned into Ryuji and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Impossible,” he smiled, but it didn’t serve any relief to Ryuji’s frenzied thoughts. Akira’s weight on his shoulders was enough to shallow out his breaths and he wondered what he did to deserve being in the presence of someone so amazing. 

He was ready to call it a day at that point. The weight of his shoulders sagged into the floorboards, but he didn’t know if he had the mental energy to take himself home without getting too in his head to pay attention to where he was going. 

“What brought on a realization, anyway? Must have been my dashing good looks, right? Or was it my irresistible charm?”

Akira was always too perceptive to know that coming out wasn't the only thing on Ryuji's mind. 

Ryuji knew ninety percent of the confident act Akira put on was horseshit, and that he was definitely just joking to clear out the air, but his heart stopped in his throat anyway. If he had laughed and pretended to go along with it, Akira would have stretched it out into some stupid sketch and they could have moved on. 

Instead, Ryuji’s flustered silence and red face was a dead giveaway. Akira’s eyes widened. “Shit, it totally was!”

Ryuji couldn’t bring himself to think of any feasible response; this was _not_ how he had ever planned for this to go. Akira Leaned further into Ryuji’s side, doing the complete opposite of what he probably thought was comforting. “If it’s any consolation, Yusuke was the helped me come to terms with it for me.”

_Of_ _course_. Of course Akira thought Ryuji was just having a moment of reflection with the help of Akira, and _not_ that Ryuji was _possibly_ , probably, hopelessly, _maybe_ in love with him. It hit Ryuji in the chest harder than the shadow that took him out in Mementos the week before. 

Okay. Akira liked guys too, it came as an afterthought to Ryuji. But also, _Yusuke._ Someone as cool as Akira couldn’t settle for someone as boring as him, Ryuji knew that… but did he mean Yusuke as a crush? ‘Coming to terms with it’ could have been a talk, or possibly… no. Would Akira tell him if he and Yusuke got up to something on their own? He might have, but if the conversation only came up when Ryuji was in the center of his own hurricane of shitty feelings he didn’t have time to navigate just yet, he wasn’t so sure. 

“Breathe, ‘Yuji.”

He didn’t know if he could. There was too much air in his lungs but he couldn’t seem to catch a single breath, just one to get his head back in the attic and the rest to sprint to the train station and get home. 

Ryuji was used to running, after all. 

What he didn’t know was that Akira was, too. 

“I’m sorry for joking around, I just thought…” It would lighten the mood. It did not. 

If Ryuji didn't say anything, he thought he'd explode. 

"I like you, man," Ryuji settled for before his rational could catch up to the words spilling out of his mouth. He never understood the phrase 'it's now or never' so jarringly until then. "I know it's effin' weird, a-and I'll go home, and I... I know you don't feel the same way, but shit's been effin' me up for weeks, I had to get it out."

He was bordering a tangent. Akira, for once, let himself be stunned into silence. 

Ryuji ignored how solid his lungs felt and released a silent wheeze he knew was eating him up. It was going to happen eventually, he knew. His own head wouldn't let him be cooped up with something for too long before he blurted it out or had to punch something to release the energy. If he was going to face Akira's apologetic face, it might as well have been then. 

He forced himself to get up, painstakingly slow. Honey dripped down his bones and he wondered if he would be able to move them in time to catch the next train. Maybe he'd spare himself Akira's expression, but it wasn't much better than the sudden still silence. 

"No, Ryuji, don't--" Akira tried. 

"Nah, man, it's fine."

Ryuji was halfway to the stairs until the mattress behind him creaked and a hand grabbed his wrist to spin him around. Akira's eyes peered at him through the plastic lenses of his glasses, contorted in worry. "Don't go." his voice was uncharacteristically hushed, more hesitant than it had ever been. 

It wasn't difficult for Ryuji to twist his hand out of the barely-there grip. "It's alright. I imagined a hundred different ways you could turn me down already, I'll be fine."

He didn't know if he was convincing himself or Akira.

"That's not what I'm gonna say, dumbass," Akira said without a hint of malice in his voice, and instead had a small smile adorning his lips. It almost sparked a bit of hope in Ryuji, though he knew whatever would come out of Akira's mouth next would worsen the sting tenfold. 

"I like you too." 

That... wasn't what Ryuji expected. It didn't sound like the "sorry, but..." or "you'll always be my best friend" he'd imagined leaving of Akira's mouth in every mental simulation he ran of his rejection before he went to sleep. He indulged himself once, but wouldn't ever allow it for himself again. 

"You jokin' or something?"

Ryuji couldn't see Joker in Akira like he usually did, fleeting moments whenever they hung out. It was in the amusing quirk of an eyebrow while he watched Ryuji say something dumb during lunch, or in the languid way he'd look over the glasses that slid to the end of his nose in concentration, almost expertly surveying a situation like they were in the Metaverse, all through peering eyes and thick eyelashes. 

It was easy to think Akira was joking, too. To say he used humor to cope was an understatement. 

"Nah, not joking this time."

A warm hand found its way to Ryujis face, slim fingers caressing the flushed skin right under his cheek bone. It was tantalizingly gentle, ghosting over the invisible peach fuzz lightly enough to send goosebumps racing down Ryuji's arms. 

"You sure?"

Deny, deny, deny.

Instead of a response, Akira leaned in to hover his lips over Ryujis, foreheads leaning against each other, but not completely closing the gap yet. 

Akira left it up to Ryuji. 

Ryuji wanted it. He might have wanted it more than anything else in the world, but his knee took the liberty of reminding him who he was. He wasn't supposed to be letting his walls down, because whatever he allowed in always climbed over it and left. It was Ryuji against the world, and every throb of his knee reinforced the thought. 

However, the sting also reminded him that it was okay to take a break when things started to hurt.

He lifted his head to meet Akira's lips the entire way, melting into the feeling when he felt his legs grow weak. The exhaustion of wanting to run finally caught up to him, and he allowed himself to clumsily rest his hands on Akira's shoulders for some stabilization. He'd kissed girls before, sure, but none of it compared to this. 

Were Akira's hands on the back of his neck? Ryuji couldn't tell. His head was split between focusing on _holy shit we're kissing,_ to how Akiras hands burned on his neck, to _holy shit he's movin' his lips_. He always thought it was cheesy that people would lose track of time while they were kissing, but an hour could have passed and Ryuji wouldn't have noticed, nor cared. 

Akira was the first to pull away, sucking in a much needed breath through his parted lips. Ryuji was in too much of a daze to fully process it and let his head rest on Akira's forehead to catch his own breath. 

"Still think I'm joking?" Akira asked cheekily, though his own glasses were probably in danger of fogging up with how hot his own face felt. 

"I'll think about it," Ryuji jabbed at Akira's shoulder and leaned back to kiss him again. 

Maybe he'd have to try to stop running and enjoy the moment more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tis the end! thank you so much to whoever read til this point!  
> i think i might make a oneshot sequel to this, where Akira eventually gets out of Ryuji what sent him into his gay panic? regardless, i'd make it into a series so that they'd be connected  
> i tried to incorporate ryuji's wind weakness in here with how much i talked about his damn breathe but im not sure if it translated  
> also, the ending physically hurt to write. weird how writing helps me realize some things about myself  
> please follow my twitter, kriswritesthing, if you'd like updates or any new hints on something i'm writing next. i have some more pegoryu in the works and other fics i've already uploaded if you wanna check it out! kudos and comments r greatly appreciated if you enjoyed, and please stay safe! thank you so much <3

**Author's Note:**

> if you’d like to keep updated on new fics and updates on this one, check out my new twitter @kriswritesthing ! easier to keep up with than with email ;)
> 
> if you’d like to read some more i have two other akiryu/pegoryu fics as well!


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